The Bloodless (6 page)

              The man didn’t respond, but the machines monitoring brain activity lit up like Santa’s workshop on Christmas Eve. “The brain activity makes it seem as if he’s trying to respond but not everything is firing properly,” the scientist monitoring the brain activity said.

              “Can we fix it?” Justice asked.

              “If things continue on their same path, it looks like the brain will fix itself,” the scientist responded. “Or rather, the regenerative cells will be strong enough to support normal brain functions.”

              This was good news all around and Justice’s smile grew as he realized what was going on in front of their eyes. They had done it, most of it anyway. The crucial moment of finding out whether the proper soul was retrieved or not was dragging along but it seemed as though they would find out in only a few short moments. “Merton Chaucer,” Justice said again, this time a little louder.

              The man moaned, “What?”

              His speech was slightly slurred but still remarkable for a person who had been dead for several days. “Can you hear me?” Justice asked.

              “Yes,” he responded, his words becoming clearer. His voice was scratchy and sounded as though the ravages of old age had their way with it. The man opened his eyes, they were a startling blue but there was an odd glow around the edge of the irises. Nobody made note of it.

              “Is your name Merton Chaucer?” Justice asked, speaking slowly.

              “My name,” the man responded, sounding quite confused.

              “Yes, Merton Chaucer. Is that you?”

              ‘I-I don’t t-think so,” the man sputtered.

              Justice looked worried. He looked around to Jack who mirrored his concern. It would seem the soul and the body they forced together we not, in fact, one and the same. It was something they had expected but were still saddened by. The achievement, however, was tremendous. It was the kind of scientific progress that haunted every single scientist’s wet dreams. They had just transcended the boundaries of nature and physical law. They had just brought the dead back to life.

CHAPTER 4

Itchy Trigger Finger
 

A few years had passed since the first human was brought back from the dead, but the outcome was nearly always the same. More often than not the soul that was returned to the reanimated body was not the original that was present prior to death. However, every once in a great while they would manage to capture the right soul. There was no consistent data to support the reason for the correct soul being returned, so the scientists of GoD Labs were never able to adjust their processes accordingly.

Eventually they devised a way to generate revenue from this newly discovered and patented procedure of reanimating the dead. In this case “they” actually refers to Alexander Jefferson. The scientists behind the discovery were outright against making this scientific endeavor into a money making venture, but since it was Mr. Jefferson’s resources, it was Mr. Jefferson’s decision, as usual. And as usual, he went in the direction that would make him the richest, monetarily speaking.

This was the last straw for the opponents of GoD Laboratories. They viewed it as the most profane slap in the face of nature. It went beyond the tampering of pre-birth genetics that altered DNA and prevented genetic diseases from being passed on. They were able to look passed GoD Labs’ interference with natural selection by reversing the aging process and perfecting cloning and organ growing which virtually eliminated all other diseases and natural means of death. They couldn’t permanently stave of death from old age, but they were certainly able to prolong the human life span.

However, the act of actually reversing death, the one thing in life that was guaranteed, the one thing that made the perpetuation of the human race, and indeed all species, a possibility on a single planet, was one that was unforgivable. What was even more maddening to these opponents was the fact that this had been going on under their noses for years. This made them so angry, in fact, that activists soon started organizing massive protests outside of GoD Laboratories’ main building, back when the general public was allowed on the compound grounds.

Things soon turned violent when all resurrecting practices were not immediately discontinued and this prompted GoD Labs to take action by zoning their land as private property. This was opposed to it being commercial property previously which allowed them to pull in a legitimate, tax generating revenue. Since all revenue producing activities were temporarily halted, Mr. Jefferson sent all of his employees on an indefinite holiday. “For my employees’ safety,” he always pandered, even though the real reason was so he didn’t have to pay them and thus protecting his bottom line.

A forced sabbatical allowed the employees to go out and reacclimate with the world outside of their offices. It also allowed them to get in-touch with their hobbies and families. Since Justice didn’t have a family, he decided to reintroduce himself to the world of guns. He had always been fascinated by machines that were built with the intention of killing a living being. He spent his whole life trying to keep things alive, so he found it quite profound that people out there were doing the exact opposite with theirs.

This fascination led him to a global weapons convention that was held in Geneva, Switzerland, the weapons capitol of the world. This convention featured the latest prototypes and even some weapons that were still classified. Needless to say, anyone attending the conference either had a high security clearance level or knew someone with one. Justice’s connection was within the U.S. government, where he had many contacts that he made through the various contracts that were given to GoD Labs by the same government.

Justice stepped off the plane after landing at Geneva International Airport. The air was cool and the sky was a clear crystal blue. He had always enjoyed the draw of Switzerland, it just seemed like a much cleaner place to him. He felt as though the Swiss were a people who took care of their land, what little they had left. He always made it a point to remember Switzerland as it was before the fourth World War. That was one conflict they did not maintain their neutral standing as they had in past wars.

After passing through customs he walked towards the exit only to find a man in a black suit and dark sunglasses holding a sign with his name on it. He looked at him as he approached and the man said, “You Mr. Justice,” without a trace of an accent.

“Yeah,” he responded, “who are you?”

“Right this way, sir,” the man responded, ignoring the question.

“Hey,” Justice said annoyed, “who are you?”

“I am your driver,” the man responded.

“I didn’t hire a driver.”

“It’s been taken care of sir,” and the man motioned for Justice to follow him. He did, but very reluctantly. The man led him out of the airport and to a limousine. He opened the door for Justice and then shut it after him.

“There he is,” a voice said as Justice sat down. He looked over and saw a man in a dark pin stripe suit with slicked back hair and a thin goatee. “You like?”

“Yeah, sure,” Justice said.

“It’s me man, Carter Elliot,” the man named Carter said.

“Right. Sorry, you look different.”

“Yeah, well that tends to happen when you shed 150 pounds,” he said.

Justice laughed, “Nice.”

“Welcome to Switzerland, man. It’s a lot nicer than you’d expect. They really got their shit together after the Russian Conflict. At least they’re on the right side now though, eh?”

“Sure,” Justice said.

“Still a man of few words, huh,” Carter said. “Still the same ol’ guy, I love it. Well just sit back and relax, we’ll be at the convention soon enough. Headin’ straight there, no time for the hotel.”

“Hey, thanks for this,” Justice said after some time passed in silence. He had battled with himself to finally say something. “I really appreciate it. I’ve been going stir crazy ever since my hiatus started.”

“You mean your compassionate layoff?”

Justice laughed, “Right, that’s what it is.”

“Seriously, but did you expect anything less from a guy like that?” Carter asked.

“I’m never surprised by the bullshit Jefferson pulls.”

“I don’t understand how you are able to put up with that man. I would lose my mind.”

“I always just expect the worst and keep my head down, get my work done.” Justice opened his bag and started rummaging around. He pulled out a hard case and extracted a pair of sunglasses from it.

“Get your work done he says,” Carter said with a laugh. “Just another day’s work for the man who brought the dead back to life. Are you kidding me?”

“What,” Justice responded with nervous shrug.

“Damn man. Already on to the next big thing, huh?”

Justice nodded and for the remainder of the trip they exchanged some small chit chat but the majority of the drive was spent in silence. After some time the limo came to a stop in front of a large convention center. It was massive as it also doubled as an Olympic stadium for the summer games that were to be played there that same year. The two men stepped out of the limousine and made their way into the building.

Justice’s face shone with awe as he stepped into the main showcase floor. Vendors were set up as far as the eye can see and one area caught the eye in particular. Villain Weapons Systems had a very large area all to themselves and it definitely stood out amongst the other vendors. They were globally accepted as the best in the business, the biggest and most eye catching booth was to be expected. The odd thing was that, as big as the venue was, the amount of people in attendance was strikingly low.

“Wow,” Justice said, “this is amazing.”

“Yeah, and this is only the main hall,” Carter said, a massive grin on his face. “There are a couple firing ranges and shooting galleries off this main hall. There’s also an auditorium where the speakers will be. I hear Romanov’s wife is doing a presentation later today.”

“Neat,” Justice said not paying attention. He was too busy looking around at all the technology that was bombarding his underprepared yet suddenly parched eyes.

Carter saw this and chuckled, “Drink it all in buddy. We got two more days of this though, so pace yourself.”

Justice couldn’t pace himself, there was so much to see and only three days to see it all. He did make a mental note of that presentation, which was something he definitely wanted to see. He had only met Abigail Romanov once, but back then she was still Abigail Crist. Unfortunately that meeting was brief and ended with him getting electrocuted into a coma. Not exactly the best first impression. It was no secret, however, that the Romanovs were the best of the best in the world of weapons and weapon design. There would definitely be a lot of information he could glean off a mind like the lady Romanov’s.

He decided to first just take a couple laps around the entire place and see what was what. The range of weapons that were on display was staggering, much more than he had anticipated. There was everything from very small, concealable guns, to massive, heavy duty, vehicle mounted canons. He saw some explosives, crowd control devices that were non-lethal, and some new electricity based personal defenders. There were a lot of prototypes and the ones Justice wanted to see the most were the new laser gun prototypes.

This led him to the Villain display, as they were the only ones in the industry who were developing laser based weapons. When he arrived at the booth he didn’t see either of the Romanovs anywhere. Apparently they allowed their subordinates to handle one of the biggest developments in weapons history.

It had been a long time coming for laser guns. The technology had always been there but there was also a lingering reluctance to develop such a deadly device. However, Man’s incessant need to prove who carries the bigger stick never abates, especially in an age where science ruled. Perhaps it was the science that amplified this desire to build everything bigger and more destructive, or maybe the science just made it possible. Either way, the fact remained that laser weapons were becoming a reality, and those implications cast an ominous shadow over civilization.

“First prototype, fresh off the line,” a rep said as he approached Justice who was running a hand over the barrel of the weapon. “This is our crowning achievement,” the rep continued. “It’s expected to usher in a whole new era of weapons.”

“It actually works?” Justice asked, taking his hand off the weapon.

“You bet your ass it does,” the rep said. “I’m Brody by the way.” They shook hands. He was definitely more a salesman rather than someone who actually worked on it. He was incredibly handsome with a sharp facial structure and blazing green eyes. Justice assumed the rep’s muscles were more for choking a customer into submission of a sale rather than critical thinking.

“What’s the output on this thing?” he asked.

“This can put a hole through a three foot thick lead wall up to a half mile away bro,’ Brody answered, his muscles flexing.

At that point Justice didn’t know If Brody was a real person or an android that was modeled after douchebags of the early 21st century. “Impressive,” he said, “but power output, what are we looking at here?”

“You interested in buying, man?” Brody asked, a pained look on his face.

“No,” Justice said, “just interested.”

“Gotcha. Hang on my man, let me get one of our techs,” Brody said as he sauntered away towards a group of normal looking people. He tapped one on the shoulder and she turned around. It was Romanov’s wife, but she looked very different than he remembered. Brody pointed at Justice and when she looked over at him a look of sheer surprise filled her face. She smiled hugely and walked over towards him.

“Dr. Justice,” she said as she extended a hand to him. He shook it.

“Mrs. Romanov,” Justice responded.

“It’s Crist, I never took my husband’s name,” she corrected him. “But please, call me Abby.” Justice didn’t recognize her at first because she had completely changed her appearance from when he first met her. Back then she had long red hair, today her hair was short and blonde. But up close she still had that hardened look about her, like the kind of person who had to take care of herself from a very early age.

“Abby it is then,” he said with a grin. “Hopefully you can tell me a bit more about this gun than your pusher can.”

She laughed, “Sorry about that. We don’t get too many science types at these things, mostly people who just want to know how efficiently our weapons can blow shit up.” She then went into a somewhat long and very detailed explanation of all the specs the gun touted. It turned out that she was actually the one who designed it from top to bottom. She even built the base model the new prototypes were constructed after. “It’s good to see you,” Crist said after she was done.

“Oh yeah?” Justice said taken aback. That was not something he would expect to hear from her.

“Of course, that was a horrific accident. I haven’t seen you since then but I had heard you lived, which I was happy to hear,” Crist said with a smile.

“You and me both,” he joked and to his relief she laughed. It wasn’t often he found someone who got his sense of humor. There was a bit of an awkward silence before Justice spoke again, “I hear you’re giving a lecture later.”

“Yes,” Crist responded, still smiling, “actually in about an hour from now.”

“Oh ok. What about?”